


Troubled Souls

by Estelathan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hallucinations, Protective Dean Winchester, Season/Series 07 Spoilers, Sick Sam Winchester, Suicidal Thoughts, Unreliable Narrator, hell memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 19:33:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5940526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Estelathan/pseuds/Estelathan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the wall in his mind broken can Sam deal with the Hell fallout that follows?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Troubled Souls

**Author's Note:**

> Based off Fanstory's newbie writer's contest prompt: Start a story with the following line: Hell found me. 
> 
> The story contains spoilers for the Season Finale of Season 6 and for the start of Season 7.
> 
> Comments are always appreciated!

"Hell found me . . ." Sam whispered, unable to keep the terrible truth to himself any longer. His voice was raw and wrecked, barely more than a rasp muffled by his arms as he cradled his head in his hands. Shame and the hot burn of unshed tears stung his eyes forcing him to keep his head bowed, unable to face his brother and Bobby. In the uncomfortable silence that had fallen after his admission Sam's mind couldn't help but ply him with suggestions of what they could be thinking. What good was he now? He was broken; damaged goods. There was no way Bobby, or Dean especially, would let him go out and hunt like this so where did that leave him? _"They'll abandon you! You're worthless now!"_ A dark voice whispered in his mind, worming its way deep into his thoughts, and suddenly it was just all too much. A sob bubbled its way up from his chest and broke free before Sam could stop it, echoing as loud as a gunshot in the silence of the room. Cringing, Sam hunched into himself further and tried desperately to will himself to disappear.

 

"Sammy. . ." Dean breathed from where he was standing across the room, his voice sounding just as wrecked as Sam felt. Even without seeing his brother Sam could practically feel the wheels turning in Dean's head as he vibrated with a combination of nervous energy and that miles-deep mother hen protective streak he had when it came to Sam. It was oddly endearing in a way yet Sam knew the darkness that lay underneath Dean's concern. His older brother was covering it fairly well but Sam knew he was still angry at Cas for breaking that wall in Sam's mind and for acting like a ginormous dick all-around but Cas was gone, which left no one to blame except for Sam himself. Dean wouldn't mean to do it probably, hell he'd all out deny he'd ever done it later, but inevitably they would end up arguing and in the end Dean would lay the blame for everything on Sam's shoulders. Dean was not an outright cruel person, but it had happened before and it'd happen again. The worst part of it all? Sam knew he had it coming. This whole mess was his fault---he'd volunteered to go into the Cage with Lucifer and Michael, had pleaded with Dean until he had finally caved, so if anyone deserved the blame that was going to come from everything it was him.

 

The silence dragged on, punctuated by the quiet sounds of their breathing, some awkward restless shifting yet no one was willing to make the first move. Tension lay thick in the air and for his part Sam just wanted it to end. What were they waiting for? If Bobby or Dean had any sense (or if it'd been anyone else in this position) they would have already put him down by now. It was the only kind thing to do for everyone; for all their knowledge in the supernatural it didn't take a genius to see that Sam wasn't going to rebound from this one. Frankly, he wasn't all that sure he wanted to. Yeah, seeing Hell quite literally everywhere was a freaking living nightmare, and that was putting it mildly, but was reality such a better choice? It wasn't like Sam's life before Hell had been all sunshine and rainbows and dimly he wondered what his father would think if he could see him now. Sam snorted a moment later-- He didn't even need to think about it. There was no doubt about it, if John had still been alive he would have shot Sam dead the moment he confessed to remembering Hell.

 

It was a sobering thought, and Sam felt his mood spiral further downwards. Would it be better if he died? His own father had seemed to think so, he recalled, why else would he have told Dean to kill him if he couldn't be saved? And what of the people that had died because he was such an epic screw-up? How many had suffered and died because of something he did, or didn't do? How many more would die because of him until he was finally put out to pasture for good? More sobs escaped as he began to shake, and hell Sam didn't even care anymore. He didn't _want_ to die but when you piled all the evidence up it was clear that he _needed_ to. At the very least if he was dead he couldn't hurt anyone anymore, and more importantly Dean would finally be free. Dean deserved so much better than to be strapped with a failure of a brother like Sam was; without him Dean could flourish into the person he deserved to be. It was so simple; they could both be free with the pull of a trigger so why didn't Dean just take the shot already?

 

Determination rose up to fill his heart then: perhaps if Sam begged enough, looked pitiful enough, proved it wasn't worth it to keep him around any longer, maybe Dean would find it in himself to do what needed to be done. Prying his eyes open, he lifted his head slowly, mentally preparing what he was going to say . . . **"BOO!"** Lucifer's face was suddenly inches in front of Sam's, waggling his eyebrows and grinning triumphantly. "It's about time! What's a guy gotta do to get some attention around here?!"

 

"Ahhhhhh!" Sam yelped and recoiled, nearly launching himself out of his chair in his haste to get away. H-How? This couldn't be happening --- he wasn't real! Distantly Sam was aware of Dean and Bobby yelling, their voices pitched high in worry, but all of his attention was focused solely on Lucifer. The fallen angel, who was still in the form of the poor guy he'd possessed before he'd taken over Sam, leered and giggled as Sam watched on in horror. "What's the matter chum? You look so glum!!" Lucifer sing-songed, his lips tugging down in a mocking parody of a frown before lifting back into a smirking grin. "It's just you and me babe---we're going to have a lot of fun together, wait and see!"

 

Just like that Sam realizes he can't breathe. Horror blooms like a frozen flower in his chest, freezing him from the inside out and panic sets in swiftly behind it. He does manage to fall out of the chair this time although it's a muted sensation to him; he hears the thump of his body hitting the floor rather than actually feeling it because he can't freaking breathe and nothing else matters. His fingers scrabble at his throat as he tries, oh how he tries, but nothing manages to get through except for a faint wheeze that does absolutely nothing to help. Lucifer stands above him, mocking his movements and pretending to gag as he dodges around the black spots appearing at the edge of Sam's vision. _I'm going to get what I want after all!_ Sam thinks hysterically, certain he's going to die, but wait-- did he want to die? The darkness rises up before he can think of the answer and Sam's never been more welcoming towards it in his life. Whether he wants it or not there's peace on the other side and he just barely has time to think _I'm sorry Dean!_ Before he closes his eyes and lets the darkness take him under. As Sam sinks into unconsciousness he imagines a familiar deep voice bellowing "SAM!!!!!!" following him down into the deep.

 

  
~

 

  
Wakefulness comes far less easy. It laps at the edges of Sam's mind like waves upon sand, each bringing to shore a new sensation with it. First comes a pounding headache and, oh did he have another vision? If the terrible pounding in his skull is anything to go by this latest vision must have been a doozy, it hurts so bad he can't even open his eyes. Next comes a familiar wave of nausea which pretty much cements the vision theory and causes him to weakly groan because there's little that's suckier than throwing up when you're a hundred percent certain your head is going to explode at any moment. As he tries to bring his arms up to wrap around his aching belly the third sensation hits: instead of laying on the uncomfortable hardwood of Bobby's living room floor Sam's propped up against a warm, solid wall. In the face of so many uncomfortable sensations, and isn't that a hoot considering how close to puking his guts up he is, the warm wall is oddly comfortable. There's something familiar about it that tickles Sam's addled brain yet he can't find the focus to care about it. Instead he leans back against it, his head lolling back as a pained moan escapes him. In response the wall stiffens behind him and rumbles a quiet "Sammy?" which is more familiar still yet the sound seems to be coming from the far end of a tunnel. It takes a long, long time to sort through the terrible pulsing in his head and connect the pieces but when it finally clicks in as to what he's leaning against Sam can't help but stiffen automatically and try to pull away. _Dean!_ "Easy Sammy, easy," The rumbling comes again, except this time it morphs into Dean's deep voice trying to sooth even as Sam continues to struggle. It's a stupid move in hindsight; the pounding in Sam's head takes on a fever-pitch as the nausea ramps up in response to his moving and in the end he barely gets more than an inch away from Dean before he's losing what little he has in his stomach.

  
When it’s finally over Sam wants nothing more than to just collapse. He shudders, trying to prepare himself for the mocking that’s surely going to come from Dean. More than anything his brother hates what he deems ‘chick-flick moments' and now not only has Sam managed to faint on him like a girl but he went and threw up everywhere as well! He’s disgusting and sick and waits for Dean to make some crack and push him away. What he doesn’t expect is for Dean to pull him back up against him again. “Are you done?” his brother murmurs, voice quiet and worried. What the hell? Sam’s so gob-smacked he goes with it, slowly leaning back up against Dean’s chest again but remains tense all the same. Dean’s being too nice, and while not totally unheard of, it leaves Sam wary as he works on getting his eyes open.

  
The light hurts his eyes leaving him only able to manage a slit but as the world comes into focus Sam’s shocked to see Dean staring down at him, his face a raw mix of naked grief and worry that throws Sam for a loop. “Wha?” he managed, voice sounding like he’d been gargling with gravel, but Dean seems to understand all the same. “It’s okay,” Dean tells him, his arms tightening around Sam. “You’re safe here. I’ve got you.”

 

Before Sam can muster up the energy to ask Dean just what's going on a perky voice grates against his ears: "Aww!" Lucifer croons and, as Sam watches, crowds right in on the other side of Dean who seems completely oblivious to the fallen angel. "Isn't that adorable! Big bwother thinks he can save wittle bwother!" Lucifer's voice wobbles like a baby before he's cackling again, completely amused with his own absurdity. And just like that Sam's tentative comfort is ripped away like a rug being pulled from beneath his feet leaving him caught between wanting to cry and wanting to laugh. Crying wins out this time and Sam's body rocks with the force of his sobs. His dignity has long since abandoned him and he can't find it in himself to care that he's crying like he hasn’t done since he was a small child. He's hurting and terrified and above the sounds that he's making he can hear the horrible metal clinking of chains swinging against one another which make him cry all the harder because Hell truly has found him and won't let him go.

 

If Dean's startled by Sam's sudden crying fit he doesn't show it. Instead he falls right into protective big brother mode and brings a hand up to rub slow circles on Sam's back. "It's okay," He repeats over and over like a mantra, looking up to meet eyes with Bobby who has been standing near the door watching silently, looking as worried as Dean feels. "I've got you Sammy, just focus on me. It'll be okay." Even through the tears and the pain and the horrible sounds of the chains Sam can hear the lie in his brother’s words because how could this possibly be okay? Hell is everywhere he looks—nothing about this is, nor ever will be, ‘okay’ but for the moment Sam’s willing to go along with the lie. Hell may have found him but that doesn’t mean he has to give up, or give in, just yet.

 

There will be plenty of time for that in the future, he’s sure. . .


End file.
